


He's A Psycho

by candlejill



Series: Feed My Frankenstein [6]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Annoyed Negan, Bottom Carl Grimes, Breathplay, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, M/M, Pissed Off Carl, Top Negan (Walking Dead), Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 14:54:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9825374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candlejill/pseuds/candlejill
Summary: Rick harshes Carl's mellow.





	

Carl's heart began to pound with nervousness as he shuffled back towards his house,. He didn’t exactly want to face his father after what Negan had just put him through. Taking a deep breath, Carl steadied himself as he opened the door. Rick was standing in the kitchen, worry lines etched deep in his forehead.

“You okay?” He asked, quietly defeated.

“Yeah,” Carl said simply. “He just showed me the exterior of the wall. It’s not an immediate crisis but we should get someone to fix it before it becomes an issue.”

Rick nodded and walked closer to him.

Carl started to blush under his scrutiny. He wasn’t about to tell his dad what he was really doing with Negan, but Rick knew that he wasn’t being completely honest with him.

Shifting his weight to his other foot, Carl added reluctantly, “He wanted to talk, about-” looking down he continued, “You know.”

Rick swallowed and took a breath. “How can you tell me that you would be anywhere remotely safe with Negan?” Crossing his arms, he added, “You _know_ what he’s capable of. Do you understand the kinds of things he’d expect you to do?”

Carl shrugged his shoulders, “You make it sounds like I’ve already made up my mind.”

“You _haven’t?_ ” Rick scoffed, “He comes in _here,_ our home, and expects you to do whatever he says. That’s not a partnership he’s selling. I don’t care if you think we’ll be able to stage a coup. And I sure as hell don’t care that you think you can kill him.” Rick pleaded, “Say you do it. Say you kill him. What’s going to stop _all_ of his men from killing you the second they find out? You wouldn’t make it through something like that, Carl. It’s too risky.”

“Yeah, but at least he’d be dead,” the words tasted wrong as they left his mouth. He _wanted_ to kill Negan. He wanted him to suffer. So he didn’t understand why he suddenly felt his stomach clench at the thought.

“You’re _not_ going to go along with his games.”

Taking a deep breath, Carl replied calmly, “You don’t actually have a say in this. Look, Dad, I know you’re worried. I _know_ . And I _know_ it’s risky. But you have to trust me a little, okay? You’re too close to see that this is the _only real_ shot we have. If anyone else had the same chance what would you say? What if it was _you_ ? Negan comes to you, says you’ll have an unlimited supply of _anything,_ and free range of the Sanctuary, all you have to do is tag along when he says?”

“Carl, you know better than _anyone_ you’d be doing a _hell_ of a lot more than following him around. I know you think this is the only way, but it _isn’t._ He has some plan in his back pocket. He’s trying to tear down Alexandria. He knows he can’t just _take_ you from me or I’d go charging in. That wouldn’t work for him. But if he _convinces_ you to go, then that’s something he’ll always have to hang over me.”

“Stop,” Carl demanded, enraged and shaking. “Stop. This _isn’t_ about you for once, God!” His chest pounded, bitter at the idea that he was just a pawn in a fucked up game Negan was playing, despite Negan's efforts to quell those thoughts.

His head buzzed through memories, trying to figure out if there were anyway that it could be true. He didn’t _trust_ Negan, hell no. But he couldn’t think Negan would actually fuck him up mentally to get back at Rick. His dad was already doing everything Negan said. Though, Carl knew it could be a solid backup plan. Rationally, he _knew_ what his dad was saying was probably true. But he didn’t want to believe it.

His throat clenched making it hard to swallow. Slowing his breathing he met Rick’s eyes, “I haven’t even made a decision, okay? So, this conversation is pointless.”

Rick wiped his mouth and shook his head. Calmly he asked, “Carl, if this is true, if Negan _really_ wants to groom you as his second in command, what do you think he’s going to expect you to do?”

Furrowing his brow, Carl shrugged.

“He’s going to expect you to follow _his_ orders. If he takes off, you’re stationed behind. If you find a group out there, _you_ need to be the one to show them exactly _who_ Negan is. Can you really do that?”

Closing his eye in thought, Carl slowly said, “For _now_ I don’t have to make any decisions. I can still go along with him, without him expecting anything back, alright? You at least have to admit it’s good to string him along.”

Rick nodded reluctantly. Just as Carl was about to walk away, Rick spoke carefully, “You know, there’re _other_ things he might expect you to do.”

Carl turned to look at his dad. Rick wasn’t meeting his eye.

“All that stuff Negan says about you? That he wants to _do_ to you? You can’t think there’s not at least a shred of truth in it.”

Heart stopping, Carl turned his head away from his dad, trying to hide behind his hair. He could feel sweat begin to form on this forehead, and he struggled to breath normally. “Dad, he says that stuff to _everyone_.”

“Not like _that_ he doesn’t.” Rick paused, “It’s different when it’s you.”

“Yeah, because he knows it pisses you off.” He swallowed his nerves, “You just said that he’s using me against you.” Carl finally met his dad’s eyes. He looked defeated. And tired. And scared. Shaking his head, Carl reassured, “Dad, he’s not like that, okay? First of all he has _wives_. I’m not exactly-”

“Out here, in the world like _this,_ it doesn’t matter. You remember what almost happened to you on the road that night?” Rick interrupted.

Immediately, Carl shook with anger. He _remembered_ it. He had nightmares about it for months after. “Yes, I _remember_ ,” he sneered. “You didn’t let me _finish_ . His wives are given a _choice._ If they don’t want to be with him, they’re free to leave. I’ve heard his guys talk about what he’s _done_ to people he’s caught. Even his men know not to touch anyone. They’re scared shitless to step a toe out of line. Negan doesn’t _want_ people that don’t want him.”

His heart pounded hard beneath his chest. It had all started simple enough, and now things with Negan were blown to hell. He didn’t really know when he actually became one of those people that _wanted_ him. He felt bitter. Carl felt like he hadn’t had any control over the matter, and Rick was right in the fact that Negan saw it before he did.

Clenching his jaw he looked to Rick who was eyeing him suspiciously. “So, it’s not like I have anything to worry about. You can _stop_ worrying too.” 

“Carl,” Rick shook his head, once again not meeting Carl’s eye. He knew whatever was coming next he wouldn’t like. “People talk around here, okay?”

Inhaling slowly, he asked, “About what?”

“You,” Rick said plainly, “and Negan.”

“So?” Carl shrugged nervously. “They talked about me before too. ‘Rick Grimes’ kid’, ‘the scary kid from outside’, ‘kid who got his _eye shot out_.’ It’s not new.”

“Don’t make me ask.”

“Ask what?” He dared. Carl felt sick. He couldn’t tell Rick, but he could lie either. Rick would know the truth the second he asked. Carl was hoping he wouldn’t so they both could stay in denial.

“You _know._ Don’t play dumb.”

“What have you heard _exactly_?”

Sighing, Rick said, “Negan’s been to the house a few times while I’ve been out. He had his guys search it. You might not realize it, but people around here look out for you when I’m gone. I know he stayed the night. Just you, _him,_ and Judith. _I_ walked in on him _naked._ Not to mention what I hear the Saviors say went on at the Sanctuary.”

Carl’s nerves came to a halt. He scoffed, furrowing his brow, “What do they think happened?”

“They said Negan was pissing and moaning the whole time you were there.” 

Carl smiled, suddenly feeling pleased that he had actually had an effect on Negan. “There you go. Proof. I _piss_ him off.”

“Until the _last_ day,” Rick added solemnly. “He was in a much _better_ mood,” inhaling, he added, “after you went to his _room._ And then you come back here with _all_ that stuff. He didn’t just give you that for free.”

Carl rolled his eye, “I _ignored_ Negan the whole time, then told him I wanted to go home. That’s the truth. You can believe whatever the hell you want, but I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

As he walked away from his father, he knew that wasn’t the last of their conversation about Negan. They had to be more careful. If Carl even decided to go back again. The words Rick left him, being a pawn in Negan’s game, lasted in his running thoughts until he finally fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

Carl dreaded seeing Rick the next day. Somehow the morning light made the memory of their conversation worse. More real. He decided to avoid him as long as possible. He wanted to go past the walls and wander. Find something to stab. But the Saviors would tell and he didn’t want to see _Negan_ either. He just wanted to be alone while he tried to work everything out. 

Inhaling slowly, Carl walked towards one of the less populated areas of Alexandria. There weren’t many options but he knew how to stay hidden if he wanted. In an abandoned garage, Carl found some old couch cushions and made himself comfortable. He just needed space to think.  

Negan had told him several times that Rick had nothing to do with what was between them. And if he was truthful then Carl was being overly paranoid. But his dad’s words ran wild in his mind. Strategically speaking, Carl had to admit it was in Negan’s best interest to get him to go with him willfully. The only risk Negan was taking by doing so would be revealing private information. But if Carl was on his side then Rick wouldn’t have much leverage. Not like he had any now anyway.

Carl knew he was being stupid for _wanting_ to trust Negan. It was reckless and put so many people’s lives in danger. His _friend’s_ lives. He knew he needed to end it with Negan before it was too late.

But the other nagging part in his mind kept insisting that Carl could influence Negan. He _knew_ he could. But before he’d be able to, Carl needed Rick to let him go. Not forever, but he needed his freedom to change Negan. Away from his dad. At the sanctuary where he wouldn’t have worried eyes watching him even minute.

Time seemed to escape him as sunlight filtered through the window in the garage. It was nice. Peaceful. Carl was surprised when it was interrupted with loud arguing outside.

Quickly, he ran out the back of the garage and walked carefully around the house only to find Rick pointing his finger and yelling wildly at Negan. And Negan, with Lucille in hand, stood amused watching Rick unravel.

Though he didn’t want to hear it, Rick’s voice was loud enough to advertise that their confrontation was about him.

“You don’t think he knows what you’re tryin’ to do?” Rick took a step closer. 

“And what the hell am I doing?” Negan replied, leaning back.

“ _Don’t_ get him involved with this. You want to deal with me? Fine. You deal with me. You don’t go through Carl. I get it already,” Rick glared at Negan.

Negan took a step toward Rick, slightly swinging Lucille carelessly as he shrugged, “Carl is a _big_ boy.” Negan lifted his eyebrows, “And you know? I think he can make any damn decision he wants, Rick. I think you and I both know what the fuck this is _really_ about.”

Rick stepped close, poking Negan in the chest he threatened, “If you lay one goddamn finger on him I’m gonna kill you.”

Negan looked over Rick’s shoulder to some of his men that were starting to show up, ready to subdue Rick for being out of line. Negan subtly waved at them not to come any closer.

“A finger huh?” Negan mocked, “Just one? What about three? Maybe four? Gotta make some room for my dick, right?”

Carl’s heart raced, he took long strides to make it over to them but before he reached he watched Rick throw back his fist and slam it hard into Negan’s jaw. Everything happened fast after that. Negan shook off the throw and punched back. But Rick dodged it, tackling him to the ground before Negan could make a solid connection.

Watching in shock, Carl snapped out of it to notice that Negan let Lucille fall, forgotten on the ground. He immediately became worried about Negan deciding to use it on Rick. Carl ran towards them, grabbing Lucille as they both continued to scrabble, punches thrown at stomachs and jaws and anything they could connect with. Negan had blood running down his nose and his dad wasn’t much better.

Without thinking, Carl pushed at them, “Stop it! Goddamn it, stop!”  
  
He forced himself between them. One hand on Negan’s chest, facing him, enraged and hoping Negan would calm the hell down. His other hand extended out to his dad, with Lucille firm again Rick’s chest. They backed away, allowing him in the middle.

Both men’s chests were heaving, trying to catch their breath. Carl felt Negan’s heart pound hard against his hand. He looked calm now, amused even.

When Carl turned to look at his dad, Rick was still glaring at Negan. He looked ready to go at any moment. Then Rick looked directly to Carl. Carl could feel the pain behind his eyes, hiding somewhere beneath the stickiness of the blood on his face. Rick shook his head at Carl, disheartened he looked down glancing at Lucille still held tight in Carl’s hand.

Carl realized Rick was watching him from the other side of the bat. The _wrong_ side. The side Carl had sworn he would kill. Rick was watching him on _Negan’s_ side.

Carl dropped the bat immediately, listening to her fall to the ground.

His hands were shaking, and his palm still firm against Negan. Turning to see Negan still eyeing Rick with an amused smirk, Carl seethed, demanding, “Leave.” He looked deep into Negan’s eyes. Carl pushed his chest for emphasis.

Negan had a cut on his eyebrow and blood from an injured nose covering his face. He squinted threateningly at Rick before he turned his attention to Carl.

“ _Leave_ ,” Carl demanded again.

Leaning back, Negan held his glare. Carl didn’t know what the hell he was looking for but he seemed to have found it. Taking a step back, Negan turned towards his people, still gathered around watching the scene unfold. As he walked away he ordered one of them to retrieve Lucille.

Rick’s shoulders were heaving with adrenaline and his hair matted down with sweat. Carl couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He didn’t really want Rick to say anything either but he knew something had to be done.

Shaking his head, Carl asked, “What the _hell_ do you think you were doing?”

Wiping the back of his hand against his mouth in an attempt to clean off the blood, Rick looked at Carl. Really studying him.

“He could have _killed_ you,” Carl scratched. “The only reason he didn’t was because of _me_. You get that, right?”

“You know I could take his sorry ass in a fight,” Rick spit blood to the side.

“Yeah? I remember someone saying there was more to it than that. You’re going to take on the other twenty Saviors behind you? And _hundreds_ of them at the outposts?” Carl shook his head in anger and stepped near Rick, “He stopped because of _me._ Not _you,_ okay? I know you don’t trust me with this, you don’t think I know what he’s doing, but I _do_ . And you’re going to screw _any_ chance we have by pulling this bullshit. For what? Some kind of pissing match?”

Rick put his hand on Carl’s shoulders, steadying himself. “Did you see what just happened? Do you _see_ what he’s doing to you? You held the bat that _murdered_ Abraham and Glenn, and you held it to my chest like it was nothing.”

“I thought he was going to _kill you_ with it!” Carl shook his head, “I wanted it _away_ from him.” Swallowing the knot in his throat he asked quietly, “You think I’d do that? To _you?”_ Carl shrugged Rick’s hands off of him.

“Carl-”

“No. _You_ made this into a huge deal. It’s _not._ Just. Go home.”

“Yeah and where do you think you’re going?” Rick asked.

Biting his lip, he shook his head, “To see how screwed we all are.” He shrugged, “Just, _go home._ I’ll tell you what he says when I get back."

 

* * *

 

Carl found Negan wandering near the entrance ordering his people around. When he caught Negan’s eye, Negan walked toward him quickly with purpose. Carl noticed his face had been cleared of the blood but he still looked rough.

When Negan reached him he put his arm around Carl’s shoulders and guided him down the street. “Fuck, kid,” he sighed with a small smile, “Shit just went _down_.”

Carl drew a deep breath and asked, “What are you going to do to him, Negan? And don’t mess with me. What are you planning?”

Negan chuckled low in his throat, “Hell, kid, I don’t even _know_ . How the fuck could I punish a father who is only worried about his _baby boy_ being taken _advantage_ of?” Negan steered them to one of the houses that he had reclaimed as his own. He hardly stayed there, choosing instead to terrorize the people in Alexandria, mainly Carl.

Opening the door, he led Carl through. He had never been there but it looked similar to the others. “You know, _you_ brought it on in the first place,” crossing his arms he glared at Negan.

“I _know,_ ” he returned a smile. “Fun, right?”

Ignoring him, Carl asked, “So tell me what you’re going to do. I’m not going to leave until you tell me.”

Taking a step closer, Negan forced Carl to step back, bumping his back to the door. “Well, lucky me because I’m drawing a blank. We could fuck in a bed this time. In daylight. See, I'm a gentleman, I knew before you wouldn’t want to come here in case anyone saw. Well, looks like they saw a hell of a lot today thanks to Rick.”

“I’m not fucking you while you decide whether you’re going to put an iron to my dad or chop off a limb, you asshole.”

Sighing, Negan said, “You take all the fun out of this.” He turned away from Carl, “You know what his punishment is? Me takin’ _you_ back to the Sanctuary for a few days. Then pummeling that ass all day.” Smiling, sarcastically he added, “Maybe a whole week. I’ll have to check my calendar.”

“Jesus,” Carl turned away, still upset. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry. If Negan was taking Carl it was only going to fuel Rick’s fears. But if going meant that his dad was off the hook he was extremely relieved. He might even be able to use it to his advantage to get Negan alone.

Negan turned walking away from him and up the stairs.

Carl paused a moment, thinking over whether or not to follow. He was still furious. The only thing all of his troubles had in common was Negan. And the only certain thought Carl had was that he needed to pay. With resolve, Carl walked after him, a tight fist forming by his side.

He glanced down the hall and heard rustling in the first bedroom. Carl opened the door slowly and watched as Negan threw his jacket over a chair. He didn’t know what he was planning to do, but Carl’s heart raced with thoughts that he needed to hurt Negan. He needed to drive the pain into his skull in a way that he’d understand.

“Why did you have to pick _us,_ huh?” Carl asked through gritted teeth.

Negan looked over his shoulder. Shaking his head he answered seriously, “ _I_ didn’t pick shit.” Negan turned to properly face him, “ _Your dad_ snuck into _my_ outpost and murdered people while they fuckin’ slept. If you don’t believe me you can ask him. You know how much _you_ and Rick hate me? What do you think those fuckers stationed in that outpost thought of me? You think they were in _love_ with my ass or were they just doing what it took to stay alive? The same goddamn shit you are _all_ doing now. And Rick killed them. Some while they were in their fuckin’ bed.” Taking a deep breath he added, “At least those bastards never knew what hit them. Your dad isn’t innocent here, Carl. As much as you’d like to believe he’s a victim, he’s not.”

Shaking his head, Carl took a step closer. He looked deeply into Negan’s eyes. He knew he wasn’t lying. “I’m done, Negan,” Carl said simply.

“Goddamn it, Carl,” Negan walked to him. “Jesus Christ, _he_ started that bullshit down there. And he hasn’t had one goddamn finger put on him for doing it. You think I’m gonna go mutilate him for being paranoid that we’re fucking?” Negan laughed, “Can’t kill the man for being right, can I?”

Carl clenched his fist, looking for a reason to throw it. “You need to stop antagonizing him about this.”

“What the hell did you say to him to be so fuckin’ paranoid, anyway?”

Scoffing a dark laugh, Carl answered, “Me? I tried to save your ass with all the shit you’ve been telling him. He has eyes, Negan. He sees how you treat me.”

Negan lifted his eyebrows, “How the hell do I treat you that _makes_ him so fuckin’ pissed.”

Taking a step closer, Carl pushed against his chest, “This! Right now. If it was anyone else attacking you down there, you’d have killed someone else in less than a second. You don’t even try to reason with people you just-”

“ _Reason_ with people?” Negan interrupted, now angry. “Shit, Carl, how long do you think I’ve been doing this? How many times do you think I’ve seen people ‘reason’ their way into a motherfuck of a situation that kills their ass? I’m not trying to make friends. I’m not even trying to grow a kingdom, though I sure as shit am doing it. What I _am_ doing is ensuring that _this_ isn’t the fuckin’ end of mankind. So _this_ is not the end of some kind of rational civilization. One bite in a community can take down everyone in a night. You _know_ that. However safe you _think_ you are, one bite and your shit is fucked. We have protocol. We have safeguards to ensure the whole group isn’t fucked by one fucker. You’ve seen all the shit I’ve done at this point but you sure as hell don’t know all the work it’s taken to get here. And you don’t do this by making fuckin’ friends. So, _yes_ Carl, sometimes a few people need to take a bat to the skull and-”

Carl punched him in the nose without realizing he had even drawn his fist. Negan staggered backwards by the end of the bed but Carl was at him again, punching into his gut making him fall back on the bed.

“And _you_ don’t mind being the one to do it, right?” Carl’s chest was heaving as he climbed on top of Negan. His ass pressed down into Negan’s dick, already hard in his jeans. Carl knelt up, avoiding any further contact while his hands pushed underneath Negan’s shirt.

Scratching hard down his chest, Negan arched back into Carl, looking for friction. “Fuckin’ shit,” he breathed out behind eyes closed tight. 

“You get off on pain, Negan. Your’s or someone else’s, it doesn’t matter.” Carl leaned forward as he removed his hands from underneath Negan’s shirt. He ran them up the outside slowly, pushing in against the marks he knew he’d left.

"Is that supposed to be fuckin' news?" Negan hissed bucking up into Carl.

Carl ignored him. He felt like he finally knew what would hurt Negan. It was the only thing he could hold against him, and he was going to. With his heart racing hard, Carl grabbed at Negan’s jaw and moved it to the side, “My dad landed some good blows.”

“You want to land a good blow? I _know_ you know where my dick is.”

Letting go of his jaw, Carl quickly slapped Negan hard across the cheek. Negan chuckled out of breath as he turned back to Carl. Seeing Negan’s smile was enough to make him decide to bring both hands against his collarbone. He gave a warning rub with his thumbs over Negan's Adam's apple.

“Do it,” Negan challenged, looking into Carl’s eye.

He had daydreamed about killing Negan a thousand times in a thousand ways. This was only one of them. Negan arched his back enough to get Carl’s attention on his ass. Darkly, Negan chuckled and Carl had no choice but to tighten his hands. 

Carl’s thumbs burned over the front of his throat where Negan’s coarse hair protested back against the pads of his skin. The fingers around Negan’s neck curled dangerously around him, touching the hair on the back of his head.

“Do it,” Negan breathed hard again, adjusting beneath him.

Grasping tighter, Carl held his palm tight around Negan’s throat. He watched as Negan’s face went red, then loosened his grasp.

Negan gasped and writhed beneath Carl. “Fuck,” he sighed, closing his eyes.

Carl studied him calmly wondering if he’d be able to finally go through with it like this. Finally kill Negan and be done with it all.

As Negan’s hips lifted up, Carl felt hands beneath his ass scratching for the front of Negan’s zipper. Reaching a hand to pull himself out, Negan began pumping carefully at his dick beneath Carl.

“Do it again,” Negan ordered.

His hands shook as he shivered at the demand. Carl wondered again if maybe this was the time. He could probably make it look like an accident even though people might get suspicious if fingerprint shaped bruises showed up. He wanted to, though. Right in that moment, Carl wanted more than anything to keep Negan from making their lives worse ever again. He hated him. He did.

Growling, Carl knelt up and again, grasped his hands tight around Negan’s neck. He watched Negan close his eyes, face turning red once more. He could feel the strong pulse in his neck each in time with Negan pumping himself underneath Carl. His fingers itched to hold on tight. Not let him up for air. With each stroke beneath him, Carl started to become aware of how painfully hard he was. It made him more angry to know that even in this, he still was aroused by Negan.

Before he was about to let up, Negan sat quickly, moving Carl beneath him. He was shocked how fast Negan was able to push him into the bed, stomach down. Embarrassed that he thought for even a moment he’d be able to overpower Negan that way, Carl buried his face into the pillow.

“Christ, that was so goddamn hot. Take your pants off,” Negan ordered.

Reluctantly, Carl got on his knees and began to unzip his pants. Negan’s hands found their way to his waist, then to his hips, and forced his jeans down.

If he couldn’t kill him, this was what he wanted to provoke Negan into doing. He shivered as Negan’s hands grabbed onto his hips, massaging them while he asked, “You still open from last night? You hurt?”

Carl didn’t reply as he waited for Negan’s finger to push into him. He held his eye shut and focused on Negan’s teasing touch, pushing inside, making him weak. As he dropped his head down, he paced his breathing. Open mouthed slips of his breath mixed with the rest of the horrible fucking things in the room.

Negan didn’t wait any longer to prepare him. Carl felt the blunt tip of Negan’s dick pushing into him. He was tight and still sore from last night, but he welcomed the burning pain. While he wanted to blame Negan for everything, he had to admit he had his role to play too.

Carl’s pants were pushed down but still trapped his legs from opening much. Negan had no problem pushing in hard, making Carl wince at the pain.

Pulling Carl’s hips onto him, Negan thrust forcefully, losing himself completely. Carl tried hard to resist pushing back onto Negan’s cock, but he wanted it so fucking bad. He wanted the pain and the rush. He wanted Negan who didn’t underestimate him.

Panting, head down, he felt Negan’s hands scratch up his back until he gripped Carl’s shoulders hard. Hard enough to bruise. His stomach lurched as he waited for Negan to get on with it. He needed it harder. Faster. He _wanted_ to feel it sting.

Negan worked into him, forcing Carl’s shoulders back, pushing his ass onto his cock. Relentlessly sinking into him and pulling out again only to do it again.

Breathing hard, Carl focused all his attention on not coming. He resisted wrapping a hand around himself. Negan made it harder to do with every pound. Carl was lost, he felt like he was floating and he needed the pull of Negan to keep him there in that room.

When Negan groaned with an uneasy lurch, Carl felt him come, throbbing hard inside him. Carl held his eye clutched tight, breathing slowly through each throb of his own dick. Hot, wet, and begging for any release, he shivered and forced himself not to move.

After Negan pulled out of him, he tried to move Carl around, reaching for his cock. With one quick pull, Carl pushed Negan’s hand away.

“Don’t touch me,” he demanded coolly, moving off the bed and standing wildly beside it. His chest rose and fell as he caught his breath. It took all his strength not to go back into that bed.

“Get your ass over here so I can suck you off,” Negan smirked as he tucked his dick into his jeans. He stood up from the bed and began to walk around to meet Carl.

Carl had already pulled his own pants up, and finally looked at Negan in the eye. “You _done_ now?” His voice was cold and bitter.

“No. What the hell is wrong with you? Take that little cock out so I can get it down my throat.”

“No,” Carl replied firmly. “Are _you done_? Can I go?”

Negan’s brow furrowed, confused and growing angry. “What the hell are you talking about? We were just having a nice little fuck fest and now you turn into the bitchy girl at the prom. What is your goddamn problem?” 

Carl shook his head, “ _You_ had a nice little fuck fest. _I’m_ trying to get the hell out of here.”

“What the fuck, Carl! It’s _not_ like that and you know it,” Negan stood to his full height and eyed over Carl’s face, trying to assess his intention. "What, you want me to bottom now or some shit?"

“This isn’t something you can just fuck yourself out of, Negan. If you’re done _pummeling my ass,_ I want to go.”

“Who the hell is stopping you?” Negan replied, irate.  

Carl moved past him and walked out of the room. He was so hard it hurt but Carl didn’t stop as he continued stomping out of the house and headed toward the direction of his home.

 

* * *

 

 

Rick was pacing back and forth on the porch of their house. When he saw Carl at a distance he walked down to meet him in the street. “Look, I think I’ve got a plan-”

“Stop,” Carl interrupted as he glared at his dad. Finally sick of everyone ordering him around. “Just, _stop,_ okay?” He noticed that Rick had at least found the time to clean his face up from his fight with Negan.

“We need to take the first strike before he-”

“He’s not going to retaliate, alright?”

Rick put his hands on his hips and said quietly, “You _know_ he will.”

“He said he’s going to take me to the Sanctuary just to piss you off.”

“Carl, you are _not_ going-”

“Dad!” Carl said frustrated. “I have him wrapped around my finger, okay? Just let me deal with this. He’s not going to do anything to me at the Sanctuary.”

Narrowing his eyes, Rick asked, “Why do you think you can believe him?”

Carl scoffed, “First of all, if he really wants to do something do me, he's going to do it in front of you for the full theatrical effect. And second, he’s never told me once that I’m safe. That’s partially why I think I am. He doesn’t want to admit that I have that much influence on him.”

“Yeah, Carl? And _why_ is that exactly? What did you _do_ to get him wrapped around your finger?”

Swallowing hard, Carl fought back his blush. He turned his head and thought for a moment before turning back, “I didn’t _do_ anything but you’re going to freak out about it.”

Rick looked at him in the eye and asked, “What?”

Taking a deep breath, he knew it was a low blow but he said, “He thinks of me like a _son_ , okay? I don’t know why- I don’t know why he picked _me_ , but he did. And I saw that opening and I used it. It’ll pay off if you stop acting like a jackass about it.” Shaking his head he added, “So you’re right, I did some things I didn’t really want to do. I made him believe things are a certain way between us. But it’s worth it and you can’t deny that.”

Shaking his head, Rick said sternly, “I don’t like it.”

Laughing softly, Carl replied, “You don’t have to _like_ it. Just stop rising to his bullshit. _That’s_ what he wants.”

Eyeing him suspiciously, Rick said quietly, “Carl, you don’t _know_ if he really believes you on this-”

“God-”

“No, listen to me,” Rick interrupted. “You don’t know what he _really_ believes and what he’s doing to string _you_ along. So, fine. Go along with this. But I don’t have to like it and you sure as hell better not forget for one damn minute _what_ he is.”

Feeling a pang of guilt to his stomach, Carl turned away, “I know, Dad.”

He felt Rick put his hand on his back and direct him towards their house. While Carl felt the day had gone far worse than he had anticipated, he was glad that his dad seemed to be listening to him, even slightly. The sick feeling he felt in his stomach could be ignored if Rick would lighten up on his suspicion. Carl knew he had good reason to worry, but he also knew that his dad would be devastated if he ever learned the truth. Carl would keep that from him no matter the cost.


End file.
